Picture, if you will, a Roaring Twenties nightclub, a live jazz band in full swing, everyone dressed to the nines. A young woman stands by the pillar in a sleek little black dress, her hair in Louise Brooks bob, her slender arms piled with bangles. She smokes through a quellazaire, while checking her makeup with a jeweled compact. What’s going through her mind? Well she might be dodging a “corn shredder,” an “alarm clock,” and a “dewdropper,” or looking for a little “feathers” or a “blow” (not what you’d think), or hoping a “highjohn” or “umbrella” will fetch her a “lap.”